Rekindled
by Scribe37
Summary: Max Martinez and Kieran "Fang" Ride once shared something indescribable. Then it ended. Now an act of betrayal could rekindle its smoldering embers. Will they succumb to the resurgence of long suppressed desires or will their passion prove too hot? [AU-NO WINGS] [FAX]


**Disclaimer** : **Maximum Ride and its characters are the intellectual property of James Patterson. No infringement of copyright intended.**

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 **Max**

Maybe it wasn't the best decision to attend the party, but Ella and Sam insisted. Maybe it wasn't the best decision to have so much alcohol that I never noticed them leave, but I did. Maybe it wasn't the best decision to climb those stairs or open that bedroom door in search of them, but I did. Maybe none of those were the best decisions I could have made, but I made them all.

I'll never erase the scene I witnessed behind that door, because I couldn't believe my eyes. Sam on the bed, Ella's head held to his crotch while she suckled on him. I remained rooted at that door and stared, unable to comprehend the spectacle of my sister with my boyfriend in her mouth. But nonetheless there they were and I watched Sam clutch her head as she bobbed on the length of his shaft.

Then Sam spoke and my heart shattered. "Yeah, you're a thirsty bitch, aren't you? You want that cum, don't you?" he muttered, his speech slurred. "Shit, Max, would never do this!" I almost retched when Ella's moans deepened and her head descended even lower into his lap. The taste of bile rose in my throat. I couldn't stand another second of it. I couldn't watch my sister deep throat my boyfriend. I lurched in the direction of the stairs leaving the door wide open behind me.

The bottom of the stairs meant a return to the party, but anywhere was preferable to being at the door to that bedroom. I didn't remain at the bottom of the stairs. Instead, I threaded through the crowd until I reached the door. I was outside before I realized it, stumbling on the porch steps. I almost reached the sidewalk when my ankles crossed in my haste, my palms and knees collided with the lawn. My body shook, my stomach heaved, and at last a torrent of tears escaped onto my cheeks.

Fang found me there.

He coalesced out of the nowhere and ensconced me in his arms. He held me to his chest while I sobbed, never once saying a single word. Eventually, he pulled me to my feet and I didn't resist as he led me to the curb. I stumbled obediently along beside him while being held protectively to his side by a strongly muscled arm slung about my waist. He pulled his keys from the pocket of his jeans when we reached his Dodge Challenger. The passenger door was open and his hands where on my hips leading me into the front seat before I realized it.

"Come on, Max," he said. His coarse, raspy voice from so close, the brush of his lips on my ear, and the press of his body against mine from behind made me shiver despite my emotional state. It had been a while since I had heard that voice from so close or had his body pressed to mine. "I don't know what happened, but I think I should take you home."

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and nodded meekly, unable to raise my head to meet his eyes. I docilely slid into the car and he shut the door behind me. I fastened my seatbelt as he rounded the car and climbed into the driver's seat. With the throaty rumble of the engine, we pulled onto the street, leaving the party and the scene I had witnessed behind.

Fang was silent as he evidently decided to leave me in peace, knowing I needed space to collect myself. I was secretly thankful for that, leaning my head on the window. Several minutes passed while we drove and I calmed without a word from him.

"Fang…" the word wasn't more than a breathy whisper, but it was abnormally loud in the quiet car when it escaped my lips. His hand slid into my lap and clasped one of mine when I didn't continue, his thumb caressing reassuringly on the back of my hand.

"You don't need to tell me, Max," I heard him say. "Not now, not ever if you don't want to."

New tears threatened to escape my eyes at his words. The rest of the ride lapsed into further silence until we slowed to a stop outside my house. He was at my door before I knew he was out of his seat, opening it and extending a hand to help me climb out. I took his hand, his other arm sliding around my waist once I stepped out of the car. He closed the car door and led me to my front door wordlessly, leaving me only long enough to retrieve the spare key my mother kept hidden on the porch. I wasn't surprised that he remembered exactly where to look.

I followed him on autopilot inside the house as he pulled me up the stairs. We were soon in my room and I was standing near the edge of my bed as he knelt before me, my hands on his shoulders for balance while he untied my shoes. I stared at the top of his head and resisted the urge to run a hand through the disheveled mop of his raven mane. My cheeks heated as I remembered the times in the past that his head had been that close to my waist. Fortunately, he hardly seemed to notice when at last he stood, my shoes removed, and slid his hands around my waist. It was such a provocative move, but I remained silent as he unzipped my skirt. The skirt slid from my waist, leaving me standing before him in nothing more than a t-shirt, bra, and panties.

But he hardly bated an eyelash as he enclosed my hand in one of his and led me the remaining distance to my bed. I felt his hand slid beneath my shirt along my spine, releasing the clasp of my bra with practiced ease. His hand retreated and I glanced at him over my shoulder as I completed the process of removing my bra, pulling my arms inside my shirt and through the bra straps. Slipping my arms back through the sleeves of my shirt, I tossed my bra beside my skirt.

His hands returned to my hips, helping direct me as I climbed onto the bed and laid my head on the pillows. I lay on my side as something was spread on top of me, but my attention was focused on him. I watched as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed and reached out to brush aside stray strands of my hair from my forehead. His touch was gentle and my eyes drowsily closed. I felt him lean in and kiss my forehead.

"Goodnight, Max," he whispered. I heard his footsteps leave my room and retreat out of the house. My last conscious memory before I succumb to sleep was the throaty rumble of his car outside, receding into the distance.

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